Fifty cents for my soul
by MichellePomPom
Summary: Stanely is now all alone. His brother dissapeared into the portal and he cannot return home. The only solution is bring his brother back. He sets up on the quest of reapairing the portal. But... Two children appear. What will happen to Stanely's plans?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note** : sorry because I'm trash and I post very little. Anyway - here is the first chapter from part 2 of my Gravity Falls fanfiction "Remember me when I'm gone". I hope you like it :) Feel free to read the first part if you haven't already and let me know your opinionis in the reviews! Enjoy ~

 **Chapter 1**

It is snowing. The sky is covered by grey clouds. The wind holws between the branches of the trees that surround the little hut. It is not yet night. Stanely is watching the snowflakes as they were pouring out of the sky, falling onto the cold windows and then dissapearing like nothing happened.

But they were there, just a moment ago. Although you cannot see them anymore, they were right before your eyes, beautifully enveloped in cold.

As Stanely placed his hand on the cold glass, few cold droplets started pouring down his eyes. Ford... He was right there. They could be together. But he failed. Once again, he failed at making things work. Stanely is believing that it is his fault. He doesn't know what to do anymore. What will he tell his parents? They will find out eventually. And the authorities? He's so fucked.

He turns around, letting his head fall back. The couch is not really comfy, but he doesn't mind it. He is holding a red book, covered with a golden six-fingered hand with the number 1 on it. He is staring at the cover, not really being able to hold back his tears.

He's placing his hand over the golden one on the book. He feels so hopeless.

Suddenly, as if a lightning just struck him, Stanlet asks himself:

'What day is it...?'

Looking around the room, his gaze eventually places upon a calender. It is the month of December That's for sure. But what day? Well, it seems that most of the days were cut with a red pencil. The lat day cut is the 23rd of December. That was yesterday...

'So it is Christmas Eve huh...?' Stanley whispers, looking down at the book in his hands.

His mind starts rumbling with thoughts. He remembers all the times he used to blame his parents for not being able to give them cool stuff like other kids on Christmas. He feels stupid for that. He needed to cherish them as much as he could at that moment because they were together. Just them. A family.

Keeping the book thightly in his hands, Stanley could not resist the urge to cry. Although he is alone in this shack, he can't give himself in this thing called "crying". And afterall, what would tears solve? Nothing. They can't bring his brother back or his family. Tears could also not bring an explanation about what happened to his brother.

The night is already settling. Snowflakes are falling down, flown away by the crazy windblasts. The wind is crawling between the cracked windows into the poorly-lit room, making Stanley shiver. His hands freeze on the sides of the book, in his fingers beginning to crawl a sickly violet-red color.

Darkness falls across the land, enveloping Stanley into a veil of sorrow and sadness. What is he going to do? He has no idea. There are so many reasons for why he is so fucked. How will he ever be able to tell his parents about his brother? Or the authorities?

He wishes that everything could be like before.

A beautifully haunting song escapes his lips, creeping through his fingers and wrapping room in a sad atmosphere.

' _So this is Christmas / And what have you done_

 _Another year over / And a new one just begun_

 _And so this is Christmas / I hope you have fun_

 _The near and the dear one / The old and the young_

 _A very Merry Christmas / And a happy New Year_

 _Let's hope it's a good one / Without any fear_ '

Stanley's voice is hoarse and cranky. But the song is so alluring... Like a warm open fire that makes you want to curl up in your bed. Stanley looks at the windows once more. The smell of coldness and snow is very powerful. He closes his eyes, and brings the book up to his chest.

Hugging the journal, Stanely manages to only mumble few words before giving in his emotions:

'Merry Christmas... Mom... Pop... F... Ford... MERRY CHRISTMAS FORD!'


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The steam from the freshly-prepared coffee scented the room, and with each sip from the black liquid, Stanley's red eyes seemed to clear up more and more.

It was only afternoon when Stanley placed his head between his hands, trying to fight the urge of falling asleep.

He had been up all night, searching for clues in the journal, in hope that he will eventually find something that will help him get his brother back.

I can't... I don't understand...

Stanley was struggling to understand his brother's notes but the truth was, without his theoretical knowledge, he was hopeless. Turning more and more pages, he finally reached the middle of the book.

There, drawn with black ink, was the image of a part of the portal, with other numerous numbers and words.

Yes! Finally something useful!

In a corner, there were few words written: „CONTINUED IN JOURNAL 2".

Stanely, lifting his head slowly, began realising what he had to do. He needed to find the other journals. He thought that they could not be hidden too far from Gravity Falls. If his judgement was coreect, the key of reparing the portal was to find the other two journals.

I have to find them...

But the biggest problem was that nobody knew that Ford dissapeared. How could he ever tell his parents that his twin had been pulled into a portal, that led to God knows where? They of course, wouldn't believe him. So, the question was: what could he do about all this ef-ed up situation.

He didn't know if it was from the coffee or if he had a spree of revelations, but a brilliant idea struck him: what if Ford didn't dissapear?

Stanley ran to the back of the room, and fetched a cardboad box. Opening it with rushed movements, he searches between papers and card and all types of documents until he found an ID.

„STANLEY PINES".

He snatched a huge piece of paper and a crayon. Yes – he had the perfect plan. He started scribbling words here and there, drawing and calculating different things.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Stanley took the paper and watched it. He had to do it. And soon.

Two years later, the sunlight crept through the windows, scorching through the pages of a newspaper. Stanley lifted his coffee mug from the table. Sipping the liquid with satisfaction, he looked once more at the title on the front page.

STANLEY PINES DEAD

Good job Stanley. This is your biggest scam so far!

Standing up, he stepped closer to the opposite wall. There, a mirror was showing Stanley what he longed a lifetime: a succesful business man and the biggest scammer that ever lived. He took off his fez and examined it.

The clock struck 9 o'clock.

Well, time to open the shack...

Putting his fez back on, Stanley opened the door.

In the doorway was standing a gnome.

Good morning Shmebulock. Want some chocolate or coffee or...

The gnome just looked at him and shook his head.

After two years in Gravity Falls, Stanley got used to most of the creatures there and their weirdness. He thought for a second when he explodes the forest for the first time. He met there a unicorn. A very sassy and douchebaggy one. He remembers how that unicorn looked him in the eyes and told him that he was not pure of heart.

And then the gnomes invading his house almost everyday... Well, they were harmless but they were also the reason why he never had food in the fridge.

But there were of course many other creatures that he didn't know what they were. But he didn't really have time to worry about them. He had to find the other journals.

As weird as it sounds, Stanley started learning physics, Maths and chemistry in order to succeed in his task. At the beginning, he felt like he was learning some alien-ish language but then again, he didn't really have much of a choice.

Stepping outside the house, he inhaled deeply the fresh air. He saw how the tourists were already roaming around the shack. He smiled and put his eyepatch on. Now he had to become „The Mistery Man".

'WELCOME everybody! Be prepared for a trip into the Unknown! Get ready to get cold shivers down the spine as I, The Mistery Man, am going to lead the way!'

Everyone seemed excited.

'Photographs are all allowed if you pay the 50$ fee! But I don't see why you wouldn't want to photograph the Mysteries inside the Mystery Shack!'

Taking out the money from their pockets, the tourists gathered franatically around Stanley to pay the fee.

Stanley thought about how he tried so many years to make that money. Now he could easily make some hundreds of dollars only from a tour.

Taking the tourists inside the shack, he started repeating the same words he usually said at the tours:

'WELCOME inside the Mistery Shack! Here lie the most horrendeous, weird and scandalous creatures that have ever existed on Earth! Oh ~ here is the first exhibit: the Culturist Deer! Hey – you there – Yes you. No touching. Thanks.'

He continued his tour as always. He led the tourists through the entire museum. As the tour was about to end, he led everyone to the Gift Shop. All the people seemed excited to buy gift cards with 20$ each. Stanley could literally hear the money that came out of the pockets.

His eyes were shining.

If only his father knew...

As the people began leaving, Stanley shouted:

'REMEMBER! „Fun" goes for „NO REFUNDS!"'

Taking off his eyepatch, Stanley heard the telephone ringing. He ran to the Gift Shop and picked up the phone.

'Hello?'

'Ford? How are you, son?'

'Father... I... I am good.'

'Do you know what day it is?'

'Uhm... Thursday...?'

'Come on lad don't you really know?'

'Not really...'

'Today are 2 years since Stanley died.'

'Oh...'

'That knucklehead. Got himself killed heheh...'

'Uh... Yeah... Heh...' Stanley looked down, feeling his heart breaking.

Suddenly, on the other side of the phone could be heard sobs.

'Dad...?'

'You don't know how much guilt I feel... It's only my fault! Why did I have to kick him out?'

'Dad... Don't blame yourself... I'm sure Stanley wouldn't want that...'

'Do you think he could ever forgive me...?'

'I think he already did...'

A moment of awkward silence established between the two men.

'Ford?'

'Yes?'

'Don't you miss him?'

'Of course I do... I just hope that he misses me too, wherever is he.'

'You're a good boy, Ford... I... Gotta go. I'll call you soon.'

'Ok. Bye dad.'

The call ended.

Stanley looked outside the window. He saw how another group of tourists coming. He thought for a second about the conversation with his dad.

He lied to everybody about his life. He managed to achieve so much, yet so little. He was thinking about how life was just a bad day, waiting for a good joke to come to refresh it. About how the only way to escape the pain of life was the sweet release of death.

Then, thinking about the money he then easily made, he realised that it wasn't really his achievement. More like exploiting his brother's work. The tourists paid a thousand for Ford's discoveries, yet 50 cents for his own soul.

He realised he didn't have other purpose in life but saving his brother and maintaining his work alive. That was the least he could do. He was wondering what would happen in the future. His path was surely paved with hard things to cope with.

Putting his eyepatch back on, he went to greet the group outside.

'WELCOME everybody! Be prepared for a trip into the Unknown! Get ready to get cold shivers down the spine as I, The Mistery Man, am going to lead the way!'

Suddenly, he realised something.

He was doing his own job. He made money. He made a living. He was home. He WAS the Mistery Man.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Stanley looked at himself in the mirror. Getting his hand through his hair, he realised that the years started to weigh on his shoulders. His hairs were getting whiter and whiter with every passing day. He was growing old... And he was nowhere near the reparing the portal.

The structure was stable, the portal had been rebuilt. But... It could not be powered by any means. 12 years passed and he couldn't find the other journals. He started losing hope.

Maybe that was the punishment he deserved for screwing up in the first place. Not talking about the whole prostitution thing, pug trafficking ( which still went exceptionally well ), going to jail in three different countries and so on...

Still... He could not sleep or eat. He was stuck in this state where he was feeling numb, hopeless and stupid. Of course – financially speaking, things were going well but the fact that his life was such a mess was unbearable.

He remembered his father's funeral from 2 years ago. He remembered the note his father gave him along with his part of the money from the testament:

My Dear Stanford,

I wish I could still be there to tell you how proud I am. I never told any of you how I felt. You are the best son that any parent would dream to have.

I leave you a not-so-good amount of money: I believe that 5000$ dollars should be enough to help you a little with the Shack. I also want to send you Stanley's part of money: not much either, 2000$.

Perhaps you can go to his grave and bring flowers or something. Or you can keep them to give to Shermy's or your new-born nephews. I wish I could watch them grow too but I am too old and too sick. I also want to tell you what I couldn't tell Stanley when I had the chance: that I loved him too.

I lived with the regret of that night all my life. I always wanted him to come home but my pride always kept me from actually calling him back home.

I am sorry that I wasn't the best parent and I hope that both you and Stanley will eventually forgive me.

Love, Dad.

Stanley kept that note and all the money untouched. He wanted to keep all the 5000$ for when his brother will come back. Also, the 2000$ were given to Shermy's nephews: the sweet babies named Mabel and Dipper. The day they were born... He remembers it with every little detail...

The cute little girl, Mabel, was born first. She was the citest little thing he had ever seen. The second child ( for the kids were twins ), was a boy. He had a problem though... Something about the ombilical cord around the neck. But the day they were sent home was one of the happiest he experienced since he lost Ford.

However, ever since then, he wasn't able to see the kids and that pained him. He was confined in his Shack, trying to solve the Mistery of the two missing journals.

He looked in the mirror once more. He looked into his auburn eyes. They were tired, surrounded by wrinkles. He thought about how the years passed. So fast, yet so unstoppable.

Turning around, he took his jacket and put it on. He put his eyepatch on too. He was prepared to become the Mistery Man.

Not much happened in the next 10 years. Stanley, now called simply „Stan" or „Mr. Pines" was still running the Shack, now a popular tourist site in Oregon.

It was a quite day of June. Stan was preparing to guide the people through the museum when he heard the phone rang.

'Hello?'

'Hey Stan!'

'Oh... How are you?'

'Good, good. Look – I wanted to ask you something.'

'Yeah sure. What is it?'

'The kids are too fond of technology. I wanna send them during the summer somewhere without this kind of stuff."

'Great idea lad. And what do I do about it...?'

'I'm sending them to you.'

'No. Absolutely not. I don't want kids running around. How old are they...? 7?'

'They're 13, Stan.'

'Same thing.'

'Come on, Stan! A little cheering up wouldn't hurt you!'

'Was it Shermy's idea?'

'Maybe...?'

'Fine but don't expect me to take responsability if they get bitten by a bear.'

'Thank you Stan.'

'You're welcome.'

'I'll send them in about a week. Is that okay?'

'Okay.'

'I have to hang up now. I'll call you later.'

'Bye.'

Stan hung up and thought about the conversation. Two kids messing around the Shack? That'll be troublesome.

Well there was nothing to do about it anyway. Who knows...? Maybe things will work out well in the end. Perhaps he will live his elderly years in peace. He gave up on the idea of getting Ford back 5 years ago. He knew that there was nothing he could do about it anymore. Heaven knows if Ford was even still alive.

Nothing will make him get his brother back. He tried searching for the other journals everywhere. He knew those woods like the back of his hand. He was old now. He didn't have the power to repair what he did 30 years ago.

He will have to live with those regrets the rest of his life.

Getting out of his room, Stan yelled:

'SOOS! The lightbulb in the living room is out again!'

A voice was heard from the outside:

'Ok Mr. Pines! I'm coming!'

A man, dressed with a large t-shirt with a question mark on it entered the room. He was carrying a took box. He climbed on a little chair so that he could reach the lamp on the ceiling and started unscrewing the lightbulb.

'Where's Wendy?'

'At the gift shop. The tourists are going cray-ZAY about the new figurines.'

'Good. Good. After you finish here you can go and take your lunch break.'

'Great! I have time to eat both of my sandwiches!'

'Oh – also: from next week on, we will have some guests for the rest of the summer. Can you go and repair the windows from upstaris?'

'Okay Mr. Pines.'

Stan went outside and took a deep breath. The fresh air of the forest was mixing with the fumes of the tourist's cars. He looked around to see numerous people around the totem in the yard, taking several pictures and making silly faces.

Idiots... thought Stan.

He put his eyepatch on.

'WELCOME to the MISTERY SHACK! Get ready for a trip into the weird and scary Unknown!'

As he was used to, the tourists gathered around him like bees around honey. Examining a little the crowd, Stan thought that there were fewer than the last group. Well, he'll just have to raise the proces so that he makes the same amount of money.

100$ for a photo wil the camel-man, 50$ the culturist deer. Perfect! Afterall, tourists should expect high prices. The Shack is one of the seven wonders of Oregon!

At last, the night fell over the little town of Gravity Falls.

The sounds of the night made Stan fall asleep easily. The day was over. He made money. Oh well... Just another boring day in the life of the Mistery Shack...


End file.
